


try to keep my head above the water but my heart keeps sinking

by Analyse (D_Willims)



Series: it'll still be two days till we say we're sorry [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Averting the Apocalypse through Family Bonding, Ben's There Because He's Always With Klaus, Gen, Leonard GTFO Right Away, author hasn't read the comics, everyone's trying their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 07:57:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17914892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Willims/pseuds/Analyse
Summary: Five buys them twenty-four hours. Vanya wakes up under the water.





	try to keep my head above the water but my heart keeps sinking

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from "Oh Love" by MisterWives.
> 
> Series title from "One Week" by the Bare Naked Ladies.

The world ends.

And Vanya’s falling. She’s had this dream so many times before. The one where the world’s on fire and she’s falling and falling, screaming and screaming and _screaming_ for her siblings. But no one turns around, no one reaches for her outstretched fingers. No one even hears her. _They never hear her screaming_.

Even now when she realizes she’s that brings the world to its end.

Then she slips down, under the water, still screaming her for help. Her mouth fills with water. Real water. Closing over the top of her face until all she can see is the reddish-brown stain. She jolts back up upright. Coughs and vomits until all the water she’s swallowed is purged. Until every drop of Allison’s blood is expelled. It’s not enough. Vanya can’t shake the feeling of her sister’s blood.

She feels sick. Shudders, suddenly so very cold. Clings to the porcelain so tight that her knuckles to keep from slipping under the water again.

“Where’d you go, Vanya?” Leonard is there. As placid and inscrutable as the lake they’d practiced at. His hands move rhythmically, like nothing happened at all, as he scrubs blood from her skin.

 _Allison’s_ blood. Crawling up her arms like spiders, towards her throat. There to drown her again.

She inhales too sharply coughs again. Feels her lungs _burn_ with the effort to keep air. Vanya yanks her arm away from him so violently she cracks her knuckles on the other side of the tub. She can’t even that pain and she curls her hand next to the other on the side.

“Hey, hey.” Leonard reaches out to rub his hand up and down her spine. It’s as natural for him as breathing. And Vanya wants desperately for him to _stop touching her_. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Just breathe.”

“No, no, no, no, **no**.” Vanya pushes further away, splashing water out over the side of the tub. It takes every bit of effort to force herself upright. Trembling, she reaches for a towel and pulls it protectively around herself. He’s already seen every inch of her naked, stripped her down for bare parts. _Used her_. But she will not give him the satisfaction again.

But Allison’s blood is still on her arms and Vanya considers throwing herself back under the water. Letting it take her away.

“I need to go.” Her lip trembles but she keeps her voice firm. “I need to see my family.”

A frown creases his brow. Confusion breaks like a wave across his face. “You can’t go back, Vanya. You killed Allison. Don’t you remember? They’re after you.”

“That’s not true. It’s not true. None of it was ever true. You’ve only ever lied to me. Made me hate them, made me hurt my si-sister....”

It’s all so startlingly clear now. All of it had been a lie. Everything. He’d said it so many times—you killed Allison—that she’d believed him. Believed him when she said she meant to, that she wanted it. Allison was there, at the concert. White gauze stark against her throat. But she’d smiled, _beamed_ with pride. For the first time Allison saw Vanya. For the first time Vanya saw Allison.

That had been real, hadn’t it? It had felt so _real_. But she was here, again.

“It’s alright, Vanya. You’re just confused. I know what you’re going through, I understand…” Leonard’s hand reaches towards her and Vanya steps further backwards. Through the bedroom door.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” she screams as she locks the door behind her. The house shakes with thunder and a fresh sob breaks from her lips. She backs up until her knees hit the edge of the bed. Sits, trembling. But only for a moment. Then she’s on her feet again, pulling on the first pair of sweatpants and t-shirt she can see. Jams her feet into sneakers, no socks. Grabs her violin and yanks the door open.

Leonard is still there. “Vanya. Vanya, let’s just talk about this. Vanya, I love you.”

The house shakes with another round of thunder. “Stop saying that. Stop saying my name. Just stop. _Stop_.”

She doesn’t realize she’s running until she’s several blocks away and thoroughly lost. Nothing looks familiar through her tears. But there’s a 24-Hour Mini-Mart on a street corner. It shines like a light house in a storm and Vanya starts running again. Crashes through the door into the too bright, dingy whiteness of it all.

“You okay?” The man—boy really, he looks younger than Five—askes from behind the safety glass. He leans forward, elbows on the counter. “Someone hurt you? Is there someone I can call?”

There’s still blood on her hands, up her arms. It’s _killing her_.

“Yes.” She seizes on the not-quite lie but definitely not truth too quickly. “My boyfriend h-he…” Her lip trembles and the sobs are real and raw. The night manager doesn’t push any further and she’s grateful for that. “Can you call my brother?”

\--

Five years ago.

The phone rings at 1:32 exactly. It’s Klaus—of course it’s Klaus. He’s high or drunk or both, and incoherent in his blubbering. Luther gives up almost right away and quietly passes the phone to Ben to try and get the story out of him. He stays, though, sitting on the stairs as Ben leans against the wall to talk. Ben looks ashen and keeps wrapping his arm around his ribs.

“You should be resting,” Luther says when Ben hangs up the phone. He nearly sighs in relief when Ben moves slowly towards his bedroom. But then his brother reappears with a jacket pulled on over his hoodie and boots in hand. “That mission took a lot out of you.”

That was his fault. One wild punch and a stack of empty crates had come down on them. Ben had said he was fine a hundred times that afternoon, they didn’t need to worry Mom. But that hadn’t made Luther feel better.

Ben sits so slowly and so gingerly on the stairs it’s like even he thinks he’ll shatter. He doesn’t. His shoulder is real and solid when it brushes against Luther’s knee. And his smile is bright and easy. “Someone’s gotta pick up Klaus. What are brothers for?” he says as he laces up his boots.

Luther _hates_ that. He’s pretty sure brothers aren’t for cleaning up whatever mess Klaus manages to get himself into this week. It’s always something with him and it’s _exhausting_. The kind of exhaustion that settles so heavily in Luther’s limbs he can barely function. But it never appears to get Ben down for long.

“I’ll be back soon.” A small groan leaves Ben’s lips as he presses a hand into Luther’s knee and pushes himself to stand. Levering himself up like an old man. But the smile is still too easy and he winks, pats Luther’s knee. “Why don’t you make some sandwiches? He’ll need something to sop up all that booze. And I promise, I’ll rest.”

“Yeah.” Luther walks with him down to the kitchen, watches with a keen eye. Ben’s pale and has an arm wrapped around his ribs. But he seems okay enough when he pulls his hood up, steps out the back door and the rain.

It’s the biggest regret of his life that he doesn’t go with or stall Ben for a few more minutes. Anything so that Ben would’ve been _with someone_ when he collapsed. So he wouldn’t die cold and alone in the alley.

He knew. He should’ve known.

\--

The world ends.

And the phone rings at 1:32 exactly. Luther is sitting on the stairs. Pressing his fingers into fists, pressing those fists against his shoulders. Then against his knees. As if he can bring her back if he just wishes hard enough.

Vanya was in his arms. _She was right there_. Luther could steal feel the (shockingly light) weight of her against his chest, in his arms. He sees it so clearly now. No matter how small Vanya is, no matter how inconsequential she’d seemed, she was everything. The only person they’d ever needed to protect was always right there in their arms. And the only thing that ever mattered was this.

_What are brothers for?_

And now she’s gone, too.

She’s somewhere cold and alone.

The phone sounds like it’s coming from underwater and Luther isn’t even sure he hears it at first. Then he forces a gasp of air into his lungs, another. Another ring and everything comes sharply into focus. Luther pushes himself to his feet, moving like the air is molasses. Around the corner. He inhales through his nose and out through his mouth as he picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Uh, yeah. I have your sister with me here. At the mini-part on fiftieth. She looks real shaken up. It sounds like her boyfriend did a number on her. She was hoping her brother would come and pick her up so um…”

That wasn’t true. Luther can’t even begin to work out the math on which brother Vanya was _expecting_ to pick up the phone. But he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it’s not him. Diego, probably. Or maybe Five. He’d call for Five, too, if he needed a pick up.

“Tell her I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

\--

The world ends.

And Klaus is achingly, sickeningly thrown right back into withdrawal. _Again_. “Shit.” He doesn’t remember his stomach churning this much the first time they played this day out. He decides to blame the time travel. It’s only the third time but it’s enough to know it always makes him feel queasy.

He sits cross-legged on the kitchen table, curls around the waste bin from Dad’s office. His stomach is empty now, but it still churns painfully.

“The apocalypse is happening in three days,” Ben says urgently. He’s been pacing the room anxiously. From the door outside in between old pastry cases to the hole in the wall and back. Around and around the table. It makes Klaus dizzy and he presses forehead to the rim of the waste bin. “Vanya’s in trouble. We need to find her. Now, Klaus.”

“Don’t think she wants to see us,” Klaus mumbles into the waste bin. “I wouldn’t want to see us.”

“Yeah, well you’re a waste of space.” A beat. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Klaus can’t even bring himself to mind. He doesn’t necessarily disagree with Ben’s assessment. Again, he wouldn’t want to see them either.

“I’m not what?” Klaus is surprised to hear Luther’s voice behind him. There’s a pause that feels heavy and long. Then, “You’re talking to Ben, aren’t you? Is he here now?”

“He’s always here,” Klaus groans. Finally lifts his head from the waste bin to squint at Luther’s blurry edges. “Like a real fucking _asshole_.”

“Don’t say that,” Luther snaps. At the same time Ben says, “This is why no one likes you.” It’s entirely too much brothering for Klaus to tolerate right now. Or ever. Another groan escapes his lips as he leans back over the waste bin.

It gets worse when Luther’s hand rests on his shoulder. A fleeting and wholly unwelcome gesture of comfort. He was doing just fine on his own, thank you very much. As fine as he wanted to be. So Luther and Ben could kindly fuck right off.

“Vanya called. If anyone’s looking for me…” There’s an awkward pause because they both doubt anyone would. It’s hard to walk back being the kind of stubborn asshole that causes the end of the world. “I’m going to pick her up. I’m going to bring her home.”

“Sounds like a party. Have fun, then.” Klaus twirls one hand in the air, then presses it to his mouth when his stomach lurches.

“ _Klaus_.” Ben is insistently pesky like that.

“Alright, alright.” He scrambles to his feet. Still holding the waste bin to his chest, he follows Luther between the pasty cases and out the newspaper lined door. Pats the big shoulder in front of him awkwardly, mostly for his own stability. “Pretty sure she’s not going to want to see just you, bro. You smushed her like a bug.”

“Asshole,” Ben mutters under his breath.

\--

A bell rings.

And her chest cracks wide open. She releases a breath she doesn’t realize she’s been holding for an hour. The foregone conclusion that Leonard would get there before her brothers. It’s somehow, miraculously Klaus standing in the doorway. He looks sickly pale under the fluorescents and the black, feathered duster is almost too starkly bright too look at. Spots appear on the edges of her vision as sobs threaten to tear her body apart. Everything feels like it’s spilling out from the seams in her ribs and onto the tiled floor.

“Whoa.” Klaus—all long, wet noodle limbs—manages to cross the space between them in record time. Catches her by the elbows. “You’re not going to stab me in the chest again, are you? Because that was a real bummer.”

“I’m sorry.” She doesn’t remember hurting Klaus but the words tumble out of her mouth automatically. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… to…”

Then she’s sobbing again. So hard every single joint in her body _aches_ with it. Her brother is pulling her into his thin, hollow chest. Wraps his arms around her. He smells like sweat and vomit and alcohol and nicotine and drugs she can’t even identify. He smells like home. His hand tangles in her hair, his nails scratching along her scalp like she’s a cat. It’s oddly soothing. And his other hand moves mechanically in small circles along her spine. A motion that feels so foreign to her.

“Don’t worry about it,” Klaus says dismissively. He sways slowly and she doesn’t know if it’s meant to be comforting or if it’s just that he hasn’t managed to _stand still_ since they were eleven. “You can’t really be a Hargreeves until you try to kill one of your siblings. Remember the time Diego stabbed me with a pen? Little bastard.”

It’s not even remotely funny, but Vanya laughs anyway. It comes out like a strangled squawk and she reaches up to fist her hands in the open edges of his duster. Clings to the wet feathers like they’re her only lifeline.

“There’s my girl.” Klaus presses chapped lips against her temple and that is a wholly alien concept to either of them. Vanya doesn’t think she minds, though. “Luther!” The hand on her back lifts and she feels suddenly cold, feels the breeze as his arm sweeps past her. Then his hand lands heavily back into place. “Be a gentleman and give the lady your jacket.”

Vanya risks turning her head to the side, blinking away tears. Her vision is still blurry but she can see Luther finish handing over a bill to the cashier. Then, he shrugs off his heavy overcoat, takes one hesitant step towards them and then another.

She swallows back the urge to step back. Not that she could if she wanted to, with the way Klaus is holding onto her. It’s _safe_ there. Unless…

Her breathing hitches as the coat lands on her shoulders. Strong arms come around both her and Klaus. Vanya holds her breath and waits for the pain, for Luther to squeeze tighter and tighter until the world goes dark.

It doesn’t come.

Luther tilts his head down and it knocks against Klaus’s audibly. Vanya has to tilt her head so far back to see them. She feels so small. Wet tears fall on her face and she swallows hard. Feels another sob rising in her throat. For a long moment, she just stands there. Soaking in the warm of her brothers’ arms. Feeling safe for the first time.

Eventually, though, Luther brings his hand up to swipe at his eyes. Brings it across to wipe Klaus’s tears away roughly, too, and then lets it fall to wipe at Vanya’s more gently. She hiccups.

“We should go home.”

\--

The clock starts again.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I've written fanfic that I didn't even known how to organize all the files for this fic that turned into an unwisely monster series. It jumps around a lot because this apocalypse is thirty years in the making. Also fair warning that I didn't take them turning into kids at the end of the series as super literally.


End file.
